


"Steady now, and stay close."

by captnalbatr0ss



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 22:39:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7482684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captnalbatr0ss/pseuds/captnalbatr0ss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Harry and Nate break into a museum to steal a thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Steady now, and stay close."

“Hey. Hey! Where are you going? It’s this way.”

“Right, so it is. Coming, coming.”

Nate rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Emerging from the shadows behind him, trotting to catch up, was Harry.

The night had started off clear, but now a few clouds were rolling in. Coupled with the full moon, they left the lush courtyard blanketed in a strange smattering of shadows. It looked almost otherworldly.

It was cold—the night air had a bite to it. Nate wished he’d had thought to add an extra layer, as Harry had. They both had on all black—shirt, jeans, boots. But Harry also sported a well-worn black leather jacket, and between that and his gloves, the cold didn’t bother him at all.

Harry directed the beam of his flashlight toward Nate, looking over his shoulder as he slowed up.

“Thought I saw— Ah! Bollocks!” He stopped short, almost bumped into Nate. “What’s this, then?”

“I…” Nate paused, brow furrowed. “…will let you know just as soon as I—know.” He was pulling out a map, unfolding it.

“Well, come on then, we haven’t got all day, mate.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hang on.” Nate’s finger skimmed across the map, hunting for their location. “Well. We’re in the right place, according to this. But…” He glanced up, looked left, looked right. “This was not in the blueprints. And it’s not on the damn map, either.”

“Brilliant.” Harry let his gaze drift upward, hands on his hips. “Pretty high wall.”

Nate took another look at the map. “What’s our time?”

Harry didn’t have to look at his watch to know.

“We’re alright, for now. Cutting it a bit close though. I’d say we’ve got an eight, maybe eleven minute cushion.”

“There’s no good way around. Not with the time we’ve got. Looks like we’re climbing.”

“Ah, listen love, unless you’ve got—”

“A really long rope? Yeah. Check.”

“Oh, so you do. Right. By all means, then.”

“I’m on it.”

Nate was stepping back, winding up for the pitch. He’d had plenty of practice grappling before, but he still took his time, gauging the height of the wall, the angle of his throw. Lips pursed in concentration, he let the grapple fly.

They both watched as it sailed up, but not quite high enough.

“Crap—” Nate side stepped. “Hey! Flynn—Move your ass!”

Harry jumped out of the way, narrowly avoiding the grapple as it hit the ground. “Thanks, love. Would’ve been a shame to damage this pretty face.”

“Right.” Nate picked it up, wound the rope again, prepping for the next attempt.

He glanced over his shoulder, spotted Harry backing away.

“No offense, I’m just gonna observe from a distance. But, ah, I do have complete and total faith in you.” Harry flashed a winning smile. “From a distance.”

“Ha. That’s funny.”

Nate took a deep breath, squared himself up with the wall again, adjusted his position, this time aiming higher, a little more left. He held his breath when he let go—

_please please please please_

—and grinned when it hit, caught the top ledge. Nate gave the rope a few sharp tugs, then really leaned into it, making sure it would hold his weight.

“Ace job, love. Think that’ll do us, then?”

Nate nodded, tightening his gloves. “Yep. C’mon, we’re wasting time.”

“Ladies first.”

“Whatever.”

 

__________________________________________________

“Hurry up, Nate, you know what they say—time waits for no man.”

Harry was already at the bottom—sliding down a rope was much more his speed, and he’d been quick to volunteer to go first for that bit.

From above him, he heard Nate’s voice. “Who says that?”

“Oh, you know. People. People say that.” He turned away from Nate, looking around.

Harry cocked his head slightly, hands on his hips. He was starting to feel fairly certain they were not where they needed to be. But he couldn’t say for sure until he got another look at the map.

Not counting the unexpected wall, the plan had been to come in through the lower level service entrance, reach the main floor from below. After that Harry knew it simply as a series of lefts, rights, straight aheads. The specifics of mapping things out was Nate’s job.

The main floor had been easy, they’d spent weeks learning security schedules, posts, patrols. Piece of cake. A back door on the main floor was their access point to the courtyard, which was where they were currently.

The courtyard was bigger than Harry had expected, even after going over blueprints. Too many fountains, too many statues, as far as Harry was concerned. He preferred his landmarks-turned-museums a bit more understated, and definitely less maze-like.

If Harry was being completely honest, the whole thing seemed a bit much to him. Tacky. One too many spires, one too many oversized wooden doors. Definitely not his style.

Ah, but here he was, losing focus again.

_Slippery slope, my friend._

The courtyard should’ve been easy enough. They’d followed the along the wall, far right side, in keeping with patrol scheduling, and what was meant to come next was a short corridor, three doors at the end, and the door on the right was their route to the stairs, up to the second floor.

From there, it was a simple matter of moving between rooms, time being relatively of the essence. It wasn’t the most direct way to the third floor, but it was the easiest way to slip in, past security, avoiding cameras. They’d pulled off more complicated maneuvers, and more than once.

So this, this should be a walk in the park. Should’ve been. Was dangerously near becoming anything but.

Harry raked his fingers through his hair, frowning. Yes, he had a feeling that they’d taken a wrong turn somewhere. “Ah, Nate?”

“Oh crap. Heads up!”

Harry turned just in time to catch the brunt of Nate’s weight as he dropped just a little too early, and it knocked him off his feet.

They rolled briefly, a tangle of limbs, Harry slinging forth a barrage of expletives.

Nate stood, dusting himself off. He offered a hand to Harry, hauling him to his feet with a grunt.

Harry groaned, stretching his back. “Well that was largely unpleasant.”

“Sorry. The rope snapped.”

“Oh, well, that’s just bloody perfect.”

“Okay yes, I grant you it’s not ideal. But hey, as long as we don’t run into any more—…what? What’s with the look? Why are you looking at me that way?”

“Oh, no reason. Wait. Ah, maybe because this, mate.” Harry gestured broadly at the door in front of them.

The only door. Their only option.

“That…doesn’t seem right.”

“You think?”

Harry and Nate approached the door slowly, and Nate pulled out his map again. The space they’d ended up in was odd, definitely a part of the courtyard; four walls, open to the outdoors, The door almost seemed an afterthought. In fact, Harry found the whole thing strange all around.

“Kind of a waste of space, though, innit?”

Nate either didn’t hear him, or was ignoring him, talking softly to himself.

“Ah, okay, so we…” He rubbed the nape of his neck, holding he map closer to his face. “Hm.”

Harry was antsy, pacing, checking his watch more than once.

Every minute that passed was a complication. An adjustment.

Harry was good with numbers, timing, and every delay weighed on him. Things were getting tight. They needed to be at least to the third floor before the security shift change. Ideally, they’d planned to coordinate a swift escape with the changing of the guard, but that ship had sailed. As it stood, Harry knew they had precious little time to waste. And Nate still hadn’t offered any solutions on this most recent cock-up.

“I gotta say, you’re not exactly inspiring confidence, there, sweetheart.”

“Shut up, just gimme a second. If we…through the…and past the—no, over—”

Harry resumed pacing, looking up, scanning the space for cameras. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be any. Harry gathered from few statues, all covered, and the half-laid stone walkway near the door, that it was a work in progress.

_If it’s anything like the rest of the place, there’ll be at least two bloody fountains in here by the time they finish._

Nate was turning the map, scratching his head—literally scratching his head—and Harry frowned, watching the shorter man struggle.

Normally Harry’d be brimming over with snide remarks, teasing Nate about it; Nate was always such a smart ass, and here he was, flustered. It was rather cute, actually, the way Nate was fidgeting, mumbling to himself. Harry shook that thought from his head, checked the time again.

_Shit._

“Tick tock, Nate. What’s the play here?”

“Flynn. Check this out.” Nate held out the map. “This could still work. Look. This is us, here.” He pointed on the map.

“Forgive me for being skeptical, but that’s not where you said we were when we were just on the other side of the, ah, mysteriously appearing wall.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, it’s a small mistake. But it’s…fixable.”

“Fixable. Hmm. Not your best pep talk.”

“Oh, come on Flynn, don’t get broody on me now. We’ve made do with worse and you know it.”

Harry crossed his arms, raising a brow as he watched Nate trace a route on the map.

“See? The door, this hallway, ah…let’s see. Ah! Look, fire escape. Just here.”

“Heartening to see an old place like this up to code.”

“Would you quit trying to be funny for one second and pay attention?”

“Only if you will.”

Nate rolled his eyes, ignoring the cheeky grin Harry flashed.

“We can take the fire escape up to the roof. Get to the third floor that way. It should take us around that last batch of security cameras.”

“Mate, are you sure about this? Maybe we should just double back, stick to the plan. It’s tight on time, but it’s already mapped out.”

“Are you forgetting the rope?”

“The rope…”

“The rope we don’t have anymore? The rope that snapped?”

“Ah. Right.” Harry directed a longing glance at the wall behind them. “Well. You know what they say. The only way out is up.”

“I think you mean, ‘the _best_ way out is _through_ ’. Robert Frost?”

“Robert—?”

“Frost. Robert Frost. The poet? Pretty well known— No. Forget it. Never mind. Help me with this door.”

“You got it, love.”

Harry rubbed his gloved hands together, then grabbed one of the heavy handles, giving it a tug. It held, stuck, and for a moment Harry was concerned it might be locked—then, finally, it gave.

Nate poked his head through, checking to see if the coast was clear.

“Hey, what happened to ‘ _help_ me with this door’? Because, ah, that was all me.”

“Shhh— Guards.”

Harry pressed his lips together, listening. He could hear footsteps, muffled voices.

“They don’t sound close. How’s the distance to that fire escape?”

“Not far. What do you think?”

“I think we make a run for it. If they get as far down as this room, we’re well and truly buggered.”

Harry scooted closer, nudging Nate out of the way so he could get a look for himself. “Is that it? Down there?”

“That’s it. Down there.”

Harry listened a moment longer. “They don’t sound any closer. Let’s go.”

Harry slipped past Nate, crossing the hallway quickly. He practically disappeared into the shadows, crouching low against the wall. He scrambled forward a few feet, then motioned for Nate to follow.

They didn’t have to go far. Nate kept close to Harry as they hugged the wall, and Nate’s hands were on the window as soon as they reached it. Harry moved out of the way, his back pressed to the wall.

Nate checked the window for any alarms, relieved to see none. He got a good grip on the window, started to lift it when he felt Harry’s hand on his own. He glanced up, confused, and saw Harry still looking down the hall.

“What—” Nate’s eyes widened when he saw that Harry had drawn a gun. “Flynn, I thought we agreed—”

Harry gripped Nate’s hand tighter, a silent indication to shut the fuck up.

Then Nate heard the footsteps. Slow, but getting closer.

And Harry was looking at him, and in that moment there wasn’t a trace of humor on his face. “Open it now, love.”

Nate couldn’t quite pinpoint what was different—Harry’d called him ‘love’ before, he called everyone ‘love’. Plus a lot of other things. Maybe it was hearing it while Harry was holding his hand.

Well, not holding exactly—Still, though. _Ah, stop it, Nate. Window. Window._

Harry was leaning further, squinting to see down the hall.

This time it was Nate who grabbed Harry’s hand. “Flynn.”

Nate slipped through the window, helping Harry through and shutting it again.

“That got a bit dicey, eh?” And there was the Harry that Nate was used to, the twinkle in his eyes, the smirk on his face. “After you, darling.”

Nate started climbing. “Once we’re on the roof, it should be easy enough to—”

“Hey, I know a poem, wanna hear it?”

Nate stopped halfway, looking down at Harry, who was climbing up after him on the ladder.

“What? Where did that come from?”

“What d’you mean? You brought it up. Robert Frost? Poetry, mate. Poetry.”

“Ah. So you do know—”

“Come on then, you wanna hear it?”

Nate shook his head, continued climbing. “Not really.”

“Roses are red.”

“Flynn.”

“Violets are blue.”

Nate sighed, resigning himself to the inevitable, reaching the top of the ladder and heaving himself up onto the roof. He reached down, offering Harry a hand. Harry grabbed it, and Nate started to pull him up.

“Rhyming is hard, like I am for you.”

Nate choked on whatever he’d been about to say, and he lost his grip on Harry, who was just as surprised at being dropped.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Harry managed to catch himself on a rung, scrambling the rest of the way up. “What the bloody hell was that?”

Nate’s cheeks were flushed, embarrassed. “Sorry, I—ah, my hand slipped.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, but he filed it away. The color in Nate’s cheeks, the way he touched his face, his hair, and especially the way he avoided eye contact with Harry, all selling points. It would definitely be worth broaching later.

They carefully began to pick their way across the roof, Nate in the lead. It was relatively slow going, the roof wasn’t in the best condition. Parts of it seemed practically original, other places had been patched, and in some areas near the edge there was an odd marriage of original and updated. It was, Harry realized, the front facade of the manor.

“Would you look at that. They just gave the whole sodding front a facelift. Sloppy job, by the looks of it.”

Despite himself, Harry was slowing down, edging closer.

“Flynn, we don’t have time to—”

“Ah, ah. That’s my job, remember? You’re the map, I’m the timer. You’ve mucked us up enough already, give me this.”

Nate shifted his weight, impatient. “Fine. Just. Hurry it up, will ya?”

Harry crouched low, crawling ever closer. Something about the facade bothered him. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

He leaned over, and Nate held his breath when Harry braced his palms on the edge, peered over the side.

“Hey, you think maybe that’s not such a good idea?”

“Oh relax, it’s just a 40 foot drop.”

“Come on, quit messing around. Let’s go.”

Harry stewed on it a moment longer, then eased back, stood, carefully made his way back to Nate.

“Yes dear. I must say, I’m touched you don’t want me to fall to my death.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, I just need you for your lock picking skills.”

“Oh Nate, you wound me.”

Nate continued on, and Harry fell in step behind him. But something was off, and although Harry tried to put it out of his mind, it kept sneaking back in. 

 

__________________________________________________

The door they’d intended to enter through was blocked, but Nate pointed out a skylight and, after a brief struggle to get it open, they both dropped carefully down.

The room looked like a small study, didn’t seem to be a part of the exhibit. Harry was already looking around, getting his bearings. Nate couldn’t help himself, he moved to the bookshelf, tilting his head to read the spines.

“Incredible. Flynn, these are— Hemingway, Melville, Hawthorne. First editions. Amazing.”

“Mate, unless they’ve got the Cliff’s Notes version, I don’t bloody care. Come on, they’ll be changing shifts now. We’re running out of time.”

“What happened to, ‘I just absolutely have to take a minute to admire the view on the roof, Nate’?”

“Wasn’t admiring the view, though, was I? I was investigating.”

“Whatever.”

“Where’s that map of yours?” Nate pulled it out, Harry leaned over his shoulder to examine it. “Where the hell are we?”

Nate tried not to be distracted by the sensation of Harry’s breath on his neck, or the light pressure of Harry’s chest against his back.

_Focus, Nate, Focus. Not much time._

“Here. We’re here.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“As sure as you were last time?”

“Jesus, Flynn. Yes.”

“Right then. I supposed I can trust that.”

This time Harry took the lead, opening the door a crack, scanning the area.

“Don’t see anyone.” He checked his watch. “Good, they’re on schedule then, even if we aren’t. We’ve got round about six minutes. Run it again, reader’s digest.”

Nate reiterated once more the order of things, the short version—Nate called out which doors to hit, Harry echoed by when. Where they needed to end up. How long it should take. And, most importantly, that they were both on the same page. Harry checked the time, prepped the stopwatch.

“Ready, darling?”

“Ready.”

“Ok then. Steady now, and stay close.”

Harry hit the button on his watch and took off. He kept his body in a crouch as much as he could, avoiding the windows. His watch was running, but he was keeping track in his head really.

“Nate—Cameras, in three.”

They both finished the countdown in their heads, pressing tight against the wall. Harry had spent countless hours on this bit, the timing, the placement. Nate was relying on him completely to be right, to be accurate.

“Okay. Now!”

They were off again, only Nate started to slip. Harry reached out, his reflexes quick. He grabbed Nate, hauled him forward, pushed him ahead.

“Go, go, go!” And then, “Cameras in three.”

Nate’s heart was racing. He didn’t feel Harry behind him anymore. Three came, and he plastered himself to the wall again, risking a backwards glance. Harry was there, a few feet behind him, almost completely hidden in the shadow. But Harry caught him looking and nodded, an affirmation.

“Now,” he said, and they were both running.

The last stretch. They needed to reach the door before the cameras rotated back around. Harry pulled out ahead of Nate, the door was so close.

_“Flynn!”_

Harry skidded to a stop, nearly losing count in his head. He glanced back, saw Nate sprawled on the floor.

“Bloody hell.”

Harry scrambled towards Nate—

_fourteen, thirteen, twelve_

As soon as he was close enough, he was reaching, grabbing, pulling.

_seven, six, five—shit!_

He shoved Nate against the wall, pressed his body tight against him. He felt Nate push back.

“ _Easy_ , love. Last thing we want’s our faces on that security tape.”

He could practically feel the frown on Nate’s face. “Right.”

“Cameras in three,” Harry whispered, making sure to keep them as flush to the wall as possible; there wasn’t much room to spare, Harry knew, for what parts of the hallway showed up on the security camera. And what parts didn’t.

Harry was focused, still counting down in his head, but something distracted him.

An almost inaudible sigh, and the sensation of Nate’s body relaxing against his own.

_Odd._

_No time._

“Okay, let’s try this again, shall we?”

They made it to the last door without another incident, and Harry dropped to his knees, pulling a small bit of rolled leather out of his pack. He unfurled it with a flourish, immediately grabbing the two small tools he needed for the door.

He was glad the third floor was still being renovated, converted. It meant he had a much easier time picking the lock.

They were behind the last camera in the hall now, safely out of sight, and Nate was pacing while Harry’s expert hands worked their magic.

“Ta-da!” Harry stood, brushing the dust off of his knees.

He turned the knob, pushed.

They were in.

“Okay,” Nate slipped past Harry, eyes narrowing. “Here we go.”

Harry watched as Nate approached the metal shelving against the wall opposite the door, zeroed in on a small wooden box—simple, for the most part. As Harry got closer, he realized it had faint but intricate gold detailing.

“That’s it? Seems a bit…small.”

“No,” Nate replied, gingerly lifting the lid. “This is it.” He reached in, plucked out a single diamond, soft yellow in color.

“Ah good, a thing that’s even smaller than the first thing.”

“This is over 110 carats, Flynn. This place just acquired it for the reasonable sum of 13 million dollars.”

Harry whistled. “Blimey. I shoulda raised my fee.”

“Shut up and turn around.”

Harry’s brows shot up, a wolfish grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “So demanding. I had a feeling you wanted to get a leg over, but I figured I’d have to make the first move.”

Nate was unzipping Harry’s bag, tucking the diamond safety inside. “What?”

Harry glanced down at his watch, quickly ran some numbers in his head, and decided he could afford at least two minutes of teasing Nate.

He turned when he felt Nate finish with the zipper, and he stayed close, appreciating that Nate had to angle his head slightly to look up at him. He took a step closer, but Nate only took a half step back. Harry’s smile widened when he saw the color come to Nate’s cheeks again.

“Flynn?”

“Yes love?”

“What’re you—“ Nate’s voice cracked, he cleared his throat. “What are you doing?”

Before Nate knew what was happening, his back was against the wall, and Harry’s body was just a breath away from his. Nate’s heartbeat felt like a jackhammer, and he was sure that Harry must've noticed it, too.

Harry leaned closer, bracing himself against the wall with one hand so very near Nate’s face.

“C’mon, Nate, I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

Nate’s mouth felt suddenly dry, and when Harry dispelled that last sliver of space between them, when his body came against Nate’s so easily, Nate felt the rise of heat, slow, spreading, filling him up.

“Flynn—”

Harry grinned at the sound of Nate’s voice, a bit rougher than usual, and lacking that familiar, casual confidence.

“Yes?”

Nate swallowed hard, his eyes moving between Harry’s eyes and his lips. He could feel Harry’s heartbeat, and it was steady, strong, much unlike Nate’s, which seemed too soft, and light, like the flutter of wings.

_He’s not nervous? Why am I nervous? He’s not nervous. Wait, why is he not nervous? Oh crap—_

“Harry…”

Harry’s cocky grin softened when Nate called him by his first name. His hand moved from the wall to Nate’s cheek, his jaw. He gently brushed the pad of his thumb against Nate’s ear, keenly aware of the sharp inhale Nate responded with.

Harry closed the distance, brought his lips to Nate’s so gently, waiting, watching. And when Nate met him, when he felt Nate’s mouth move against his, Harry’s eyes closed of their own volition.

Nate’s body relaxed, his hands moved to Harry’s chest, and they shook. Timid, unsure.

Harry let his teeth graze across Nate’s bottom lip, groaning softly as Nate opened up for him, invited him in.

Harry almost forgot himself, almost got so lost in Nate that he neglected the time.

Almost.

Something went off, internal, and he pulled back, his eyes wide. “Oh, fuck all—”

He pried himself away from Nate, launched himself at the door just as the handle began to turn. It opened a crack, but slammed shut again at the force of Harry’s body against it.

Harry took a split second to check his watch, frowning. “Early? They’re back early. Bollocks.”

Nate was blinking, still coming back to earth.

“Nate— Oy, Nate! The window.”

“What—”

“The window! NOW.”

Harry heard voices on the other side of the door, heard the click of a safety, braced himself for the impact he knew was impending.

The first slam jolted him forward, but he recovered quickly, pushing back hard.

Nate was struggling with the window, it was opening, but slowly.

“Need you to hurry, mate!”

“I’m—trying—”

“Nathan—”

The first gunshot was so loud, and so near Harry’s ear that he instinctively dropped down, his back still to the door.

_“Jesus!”_

“Flynn!”

“I’m alright, just get that sodding window open!”

The men on the other side of the door were shouting. Harry heard the telltale signs of a radio, knew they were calling for backup.

_Well, this has really gone all to pot. For fuck’s sake._

Harry heard the next shot, felt something light against his forehead, looked up. Splinters, splinters from the door where the bullet had ripped through it.

“NATHAN. _THE WINDOW._ ”

Nate was in a panic. He saw that the second bullet had gone through the pane, near one of the corners, and without hesitation he threw an elbow into it. It cracked more where the bullet had exited, and Nate put all his weight behind the next elbow.

The glass shattered, Nate grabbed for whatever he could reach—it was the small box they’d lifted the diamond from—and used it to knock out the bigger remaining shards.

“Flynn, come on!”

“I’m right behind you, go. _Go!_ ”

Nate furrowed his brow, but there was no time. He heaved himself up, out, quickly surveying his options. Sending up a swift and sincere prayer of gratitude for the second floor balcony directly below them. He shouted to Harry as he dropped down, letting him know it was safe, and he turned, watching for Harry.

He heard another shot, and again, and he held his breath.

Harry appeared at the window, scrambling out, jumping. He hit the ground rolling, nearly crashed into Nate as the smaller man rushed to meet him.

“Flynn—”

“We gotta move, mate.” Harry grabbed Nate by his shoulders, firmly. “Nathan, _RUN._ ”


End file.
